Today, I moved my office around the corner to a nice coffee house (with horrible food). I really like Viennese coffee houses although I insist on adding that sitting in cafés all day is one of my favourite activities in every city.
I love how you become invisible. After an hour or so, the waiter starts ignoring you and you can just work there all day. I also like to watch everything around me change: watch when the suit-wearing people come in for lunch, when it gets emptier again, when the tourists stop by for coffee and cake and finally, when more and more people switch from coffee to beer and wine.
While I was sitting there, I couldn’t help but imagine alternative present-day scenarios; I remembered all the other professions I have wanted to pursue. What would it be like to be a writer sitting in this café now? What if I had gone into politics? Why did I never try to become a journalist? Who would I be today of I had tried that? And, most urgent questions of all: Would alternative me have more exciting Friday night plans than sitting in her room writing blog entries?